


maybe everything that falls down eventually rises

by karcathy



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, POV Alternating, Single Parent Dan Howell, Slow Burn, damn how is that not an existing tag? let the man librarian...ise, librarian phil lester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-01-13 10:01:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21242270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karcathy/pseuds/karcathy
Summary: It's your typical meet-cute: single father brings adorable daughter to local library and runs into cute librarian. It could just be a fleeting connection. Or, with a little courage and a lot of rom-com style engineering, it could be something more.





	1. Phil

**Author's Note:**

> ... if i ever finish it!

The library was quiet. It was early in the afternoon, and Phil was in the children’s section, reshelving books and humming to himself. This part of his job was boring, but oddly satisfying, putting everything back where it belonged. It was easy to lose himself in the ritual of it, and he almost didn’t notice when someone else appeared. 

“Daddy, who’s that?” A sweet, high voice behind him made Phil turn around. Behind him, a small girl was clinging to the leg of a tall, ridiculously handsome man, peering up at him. 

“Hi, I’m Phil,” he said, smiling down at the little girl. “I work at the library. Can I help you?”

“We’re looking for a book!” The girl smiled up at him. The man - her dad, Phil assumed, looked a touch embarrassed, but he was smiling as well, his hand resting on her shoulder. He had to stoop a little to reach, thanks to his height. Phil was pretty tall, but this man was a giant. A giant with curly hair that flopped into his face, and adorable dimples that came out when he smiled.

“Hi,” he said, waving awkwardly at Phil. “Sorry, I’m Dan. Sweetie, introduce yourself to the nice man.” He looked expectantly down at the little girl, who was still staring at Phil. 

“I’m Emma,” she said. “I’m nearly five.” She had a shock of bright blonde curls, which were disordered but clean, and huge hazel eyes. Her face was round and cute, and she was probably tall for her age, although Phil wasn't an expert on the height of children. Her jeans were too short for her, ending just above her ankles, and her trainers looked scuffed and worn, but her clothes were clean. 

“Oh, wow,” said Phil, kneeling down to get on her level. “Is it your birthday soon?” He didn’t spend a huge amount of time with kids, but they were generally easier to interact with than grown adults. They might damage a few books, but at least they never came in drunk and pissed on the bean bags. 

“Yes,” she said, beaming proudly. “It’s nearly my birthday.”

“That’s exciting,” said Phil, “So, you’re looking for a book, Emma?”

She nodded, her eyes wide. 

“What sort of books do you like?” Phil wasn’t exactly sure there was a huge range of genres for kids her age, but he might as well check. 

“I like the, um, the dinosaurs book.” She looked up at her dad for guidance. “And, um, the princesses.”

“She’s just learning to read, isn’t that right, Emma?” Dan added, kneeling down as well. “She started school last week, and they want them to do some reading at home.” Dan looked at Phil, his expression slightly uncertain. “I’m not really sure where to start, honestly. I’ve just been reading her my old books from when I was little.”

“Well, let’s see what we can find,” Phil said, turning towards one of the shelves. He was hardly an expert on children, either, but at least he knew the library. “These are the books for people who are just starting out, would you like to look at them?"

Emma nodded, her eyes wide. Phil pulled a few books off the shelf, ones he thought had good pictures and a story that wasn't too tedious. 

"So, you've just started school, huh?" he said, offering her the books, "How's that going?"

"It's really good," she said, taking one of the books off of him and opening it. "I've got five new friends and Daddy said that's more than he's had in his whole life."

Phil couldn't stop himself from laughing when he saw Dan's mortified expression. 

"It's okay, I know what kids are like," he said, letting Emma peruse the books on her own as he turned back to Dan. "So, is she your first?"

"My one and only," Dan said, with a fond smile. "We're kind of figuring things out together."

"Ah, yeah, it must be difficult," Phil said, like he'd ever seriously considered procreating. He liked kids just fine, but he wasn't sure he could be trusted to keep one alive. "Well, hopefully she likes some of the books. Do you guys have a library card yet?"

"No, not yet," Dan said, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. He looked a little sheepish. 

"No worries! I can set that all up for you guys at the desk." Phil looked at Emma, who was engrossed in staring at the pictures in one of the books. "Do you want to go do that now? She can stay with the books, the desk is just over there." He pointed to the reception, which had a clear view of this section. That was mostly because kids had a tendency to damage books, but he didn’t think Emma seemed likely to do that, from the reverent way she was holding the book he’d given her. 

"Oh, sure," Dan said, putting a hand on Emma's shoulder. "Hey, Daddy's just going to get us a card so you can take the books home."

Emma nodded, not looking up from her book.

"She's very independent," Dan said, smiling as he stood up. "I swear she's not going to need me soon."

Phil smiled, leading the way to the desk. "She can look after you in your old age," he said, his tone light and teasing. 

Dan laughed, a loud and undignified sound that Phil found oddly endearing. "I'm not that old," he protested. "I just don't sleep well."

Privately, Phil thought that he looked about sixteen. "You wear it well," he said instead, attempting a wink that was more of a blink. Dan laughed again, the sound echoing around the quiet building. Phil hid his smile, slipping around the desk and waking up the computer. "Okay, so I just need a few things from you." 

"Sure.”

"So, your name?" Phil pulled up the new user form, tapping the desk impatiently as he waited for the ancient computer to respond.

"Daniel. Daniel Howell," he said, leaning his elbow on the counter and turning so he could keep an eye on Emma. 

"And is there a Mrs Howell?" Phil asked, tapping his name out into the form on the computer. 

"That's not one of the questions," Dan said, turning back to look at Phil.

"No, I'm just nosy," Phil admitted with a grin.

Dan laughed. "There isn't," he said, with a hint of a blush in his cheeks. 

“Interesting,” said Phil, with a smile. "And the little lady is Emma, right?" Dan nodded, and Phil took a few seconds to fill out her name. “Okay, your phone number?”

Dan gave him a suspicious look.

“This one is on the form, I promise!” Phil said, turning the screen so he could see. 

“Okay, sure,” Dan said, with a skeptical tone, before giving Phil his number, as well as his street address and email. It took Phil a few minutes to type them out, double-checking as he went, while Dan turned away to watch his daughter again.

“Great, that’s everything!” Phil said, tapping out the last of Dan’s details. “The card’s going to take a few days to come through, but you can start borrowing books now, either at the desk or using your last name and post code at one of the machines over there.” He pointed out the automated machines to Dan. “There’s also a drop box out front if you want to return a book out of hours." He pointed towards the front door, like Dan didn't know where it was already. “You can borrow up to 10 books for two weeks at a time, and you can renew them at one of the computers or on our website, and there isn’t an overdue charge for children.”

“Great,” Dan said, “Wow, I haven’t used a library since uni.”

“Personally, I think they’re great,” Phil said, with a grin. “If you like, we can give you a call to let you know when your cards have arrived.”

“Okay, sure,” he said, turning away to look over at Emma. “You said we can borrow some books now?”

“Yep, up to 10,” said Phil. 

He watched Dan go over and chat to Emma, going through the small stack of books with her and selecting a few volumes, putting the rest carefully back onto the shelf. Together, they came over to the desk, a small pile of books clutched in her little hands. 

“I want these ones,” she said, looking up at Phil. 

“I’m sure you’ll love them,” Phil said, smiling warmly at her. “Can I have a look at what you’ve got?”

Emma looked at him suspiciously. Her take on the expression was eerily similar to her dad’s. 

“Come on, sweetie, he has to check the books so you can take them,” Dan said, putting a hand on her shoulder. He had to stoop to reach. 

“Okay,” she said, putting the pile of books carefully on the desk. 

Phil scanned them, quickly and efficiently. “If you’d like, I can set up the system to send you a text or email reminder the day before they’re due.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” Dan said, with a smile.

Phil tapped away on the keyboard, quickly setting up the reminder. “Great, you’re all sorted,” he said, with a smile. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No, uh, I think that’s everything,” said Dan, looking down at his daughter. “Thank you. Emma, say thank you to the nice man.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling shyly as she gathered the pile of books and hugged them tightly to her chest. 

“You’re welcome,” Phil said, smiling back at her. “See you soon!”

“Yeah, uh, you too,” Dan mumbled, shooting him a quick smile as he ushered Emma away from the desk. 

Phil watched them leave, the girl still clutching her books close to her chest. Dan glanced back over his shoulder, a smile lingering as he made fleeting eye contact with Phil. He was cute - that was the only word for it, despite his size. Idly, Phil wondered whether he’d see him again - he was realistic about his chances, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t daydream. It was a pleasant change to have a cute single dad in the library, even if just to look at. Most of the library’s patrons were a few decades older, and decidedly less attractive. 

The library was pretty quiet for the rest of Phil’s shift. A few people came in, and he helped a sweet old lady find a book her daughter had told her about, after going through most of the other books in the library. Otherwise, he whiled away the hours with admin, which he never seemed close to reaching the end of. The other librarian on duty was an older woman who’d worked there for decades - Phil wasn’t sure of her age, but he was pretty certain she had to be approaching retirement. He offered to lock up on his own, since it was Tuesday, and she had an evening class on Tuesdays - it was either painting or French, but she went to more classes than he could keep track of. He did a final round of the shelves just before five, checking that everything was tidy so the cleaners could do their job a little more easily, then headed out. He turned back to check the door behind him, pulling his hoodie a little closer as a cold breeze tugged at his clothes. Only September, but it was already getting chilly - he’d need a coat soon enough. He walked briskly to his car, his chin tucked in to his chest and his hands shoved deep into his pockets. 

He arrived home to find Lenny sitting on his front step, looking up at him with disapproving yellow eyes. 

“All right, mate?” he said, bending down to scratch the orange-and-white cat behind his ear. Lenny chirped at him, standing up and pawing expectantly at the door. “You know, you have your own door,” Phil said, unlocking the door and letting the cat go in before him. “It’s the perfect size for you, and you don’t need my help to open it.” Lenny just mewed softly, heading straight for the kitchen. “Fine, have it your way.” Phil dropped his keys in the bowl by the door, letting it swing shut behind him as he flipped the light on and kicked his shoes off. He stood in the hallway for a moment, lost in thought, then snapped back to the present as a small head butted against his shin. 

“Hey, George,” he said, smiling as he bent over to pet the cat, white with patches of tabby fur. “Let me guess, you’re hungry too.” George mewed, presumably in agreement, and Phil followed him through to the kitchen, where both cats were sitting patiently in front of their bowls. “It’s always nice to know why you keep me around,” he said, reaching for the bag of dry food and gently waving the cats aside as he leant over to fill up the bowls. He smiled as they darted in immediately, scoffing down the food like they’d not eaten for weeks. He watched the cats for a moment, then turned away, rummaging through the cupboards and trying to decide what to have for his own dinner. He idly wished he just had a bag of food like the cats, but decided that, on balance, he’d rather go through the effort of cooking if it meant his meals would be more enjoyable. Not that the cats seemed to mind. 

He ate in front of the telly, then let it play in the background while he scrolled on his phone. Lenny curled up contentedly in his lap, and George watched them from the back of the sofa, just out of Phil’s reach. Overall, it was a very uneventful day. As he fell asleep, his mind wandered idly, and he thought about the guy with the little girl - Dan, wasn’t it? He wondered whether he’d see them again. Probably not. He was cute, though. And single. Probably straight, though. And he had a kid. Definitely more daydream than date material. Still… he was cute. 


	2. Dan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan returns to the daily grind of single parenthood. Despite his best efforts, he can't quite manage to forget about the cute librarian he'd met.

Dan wasn’t sure why he looked back as he left the library. Maybe it was just because the librarian had been so nice, and so helpful, and also weirdly young and fit for a librarian. Maybe his idea of what a librarian should look like wasn’t the most accurate, though, given that he could probably count the number of libraries he’d visited on one hand. He smiled reflexively and turned away, ushering Emma outside, trying to put the librarian out of his mind. 

"Daddy," she said, slowing down.

"Come on, sweetie, we have to get home." Dan put his hand on her shoulder, trying to gently encourage her to keep moving. 

"But Daddy, isn't he going home too?" She had stopped now, in the middle of the pavement. 

"Who, baby?" Dan asked, stepping to one side with an apologetic smile as an older woman squeezed past them.

"The library man," Emma said, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

"No, he has to stay in the library," Dan said. He held out his hand, and smiled when she took it, letting him lead her on. 

"Does he live there?" She was struggling to hold the books with one arm, but she shook her head firmly when Dan tried to take them.

"What, in the library?" He laughed a little as he said it. "No, honey, I don't think so."

"Oh," she said, thoughtfully. She was quiet for a couple of minutes, and Dan thought she was finished with the subject. They managed to reach the car without dropping any books. 

"So where does he live?" she asked, as Dan lifted her into the carseat.

"I don't know," he said, checking the straps were secure. "You'd have to ask him."

"Okay," she said. "Where's bunny?"

Dan searched his pockets, briefly panicking, before he spotted the worn toy rabbit lying on the parcel shelf. "Here he is," he said, reaching past her to grab it. Delighted, she hugged it to her chest.

Dan smiled to himself as he shut the car door and walked around to the driver's side. Sliding into his seat, he glanced back over his shoulder, checking that Emma was still safely in place. Satisfied, he started the car, checked his mirrors and pulled out. 

The drive home was uneventful and quiet, and even though it only took fifteen minutes, Emma was asleep when they arrived. Dan quietly gathered up the books and took them inside. Afterwards, he gently unstrapped Emma and lifted her out of her seat. She made a soft noise, but didn’t wake up, and Dan balanced her on one hip as he swung the door shut and locked the car. He carried her inside and laid her down gently on the sofa. He knelt down to undo the velcro on her trainers and slide them off of her feet, then took the trainers through to the hallway, kicking off his own shoes and hanging his jacket up on its hook. He was starting to get hungry. It was his day off, and he’d picked Emma up from school at lunchtime - she was still on half days for the moment, but Dan was hoping that wouldn’t be the case for much longer. Childcare was expensive. 

He peered into the living room, checking that Emma was still sleeping soundly, then went through to the kitchen to scavenge up some lunch. There wasn’t much in, but there was bread in the freezer, and a few tins of beans in the cupboard. He stuck a couple of slices of bread in the toaster and tipped a tin of beans into a saucepan, then went back into the living room. “Hey, sweetie,” he said, softly, shaking Emma’s shoulder, “We’re home now, baby, are you hungry?”

She blinked blearily, then nodded. 

“I’m making beans on toast.”

“Okay,” she said, pushing herself up into a sitting position and rubbing her eyes with one hand, “Can I have the orange plate?”

“Let me just check it’s clean, okay?” Dan said, standing up. 

Emma followed him through to the kitchen, trailing a few paces behind with bunny dangling from one hand. He rummaged through the cupboards for a moment before spotting the plate, which was sitting on the draining board. 

“Oh, look, here it-” He jumped as the toaster went off. 

Emma laughed. “Silly Daddy,” she said. 

“Yep, silly Daddy,” said Dan, smiling at her as he transferred a piece of toast to her plate. He grabbed another plate - china, rather than plastic - and put the other piece of toast on it, then popped another slice in the toaster. They waited quietly for it to finish, Emma leaning into the counter with half-closed eyes. Dan cut her slice of toast into fingers while he waited. He managed not to jump at the noise of the toaster this time. He stirred the beans, checking the temperature, then spooned them onto their plates, being careful not to get them on Emma’s toast. He grabbed some cutlery from the drawer, then carried the plates over to the table.

“Food’s ready, sweetie,” he said, and Emma perked up, coming around to join him at the table. She climbed onto her chair and perched precariously on the edge, her legs awkwardly folded underneath her. 

“Sit properly, Emma,” he admonished. He was also sitting awkwardly on one of his legs, his ankle pressing uncomfortably into the hard wood of the chair. 

She scowled, but slid her legs out so they were dangling off the edge of her chair. 

“Thank you,” Dan said, cutting out a square of toast and piling the fork high with beans before sliding it into his mouth. 

Emma watched him with a faint expression of disgust as she nibbled delicately on a piece of toast. Dan finished quickly, eating more like a hoover than a man, and watched patiently as Emma nibbled her way through most of her toast. 

“Eat your beans, too, sweetie,” he prompted her. 

“Do I gotta?” she asked, pouting cutely. 

“You gotta eat some of them, honey,” he said. 

“I’ll eat four,” she said, carefully sliding one bean onto her spoon. 

“Okay, you can start with four,” he said, smiling indulgently. “We’ll see how high you can count, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, eating the bean. “One.”

She ended up managing to eat about half the beans - she counted it as thirteen, although there was definitely some repetition - and most of her toast. 

“Good job, sweetie,” Dan said, stacking her plate on top of his and carrying them across to the kitchen. He scooped the rest of her beans onto the last piece of toast and ate it in one bite. It was cold, slightly unpleasant, but he wasn’t about to let food go to waste. 

“Can you read me a story now, Daddy?” Emma had followed him, clinging to the leg of his jeans and staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes. 

“Okay, baby,” he said. “Go pick out a book, I just need to wash the plates first.”

“Okay!” she said, running through to the living room at alarming speed. 

Dan washed the dishes, leaving them on the rack to dry, then went to join her. She was kneeling on the floor, the books from the library spread out in front of her. 

“Have you picked a book, sweetie?” Dan asked, sitting on the sofa. 

She stared at the books thoughtfully for a moment. “This one,” she said finally, picking up a book and carrying it across to Dan. He opened up his arms, letting her settle onto his lap, then opened the book and started reading. It was a generic children’s book, but it wasn’t awful, and the illustrations were actually quite beautiful. Maybe that librarian knew what he was talking about after all. Emma made him read it all the way through three times before she let him gently suggest they read a different book. 

They spent most of the afternoon reading together. Dan treasured this time - he had to spend too much time working these days to be able to spend as much time with Emma as he wanted. It’s times like these he wishes things had worked out with his ex. It had been inevitable - Rachel and Dan hadn’t so much broken up as moved naturally on in their own directions - but it still hurt that he’d had a chance at living the life he’d wanted, and lost it. He didn’t resent her, most of the time. Things had just happened at the wrong time, and with the wrong person, and that wasn’t anyone’s fault. He had to remind himself of that sometimes. 

Dinner was pasta, frozen peas and fish fingers - the sort of food that was common to fussy children and struggling students. Dan wasn’t a student any more, but he was intimately familiar with the lifestyle. Emma was an about average level of pickiness for an almost-5-year-old, which is to say she would eat only the plainest food, with great reluctance, and frequently changed her mind about what she liked. Dan had long given up on trying to expand her taste, settling instead for trying to make sure she ate enough, and finishing the rest himself to prevent the sting he felt when food went to waste. Tonight was a good night - she ate without complaining, and finished most of the food on her plate. Dan was halfway through the washing up when his phone rang, and he rubbed his hands dry hurriedly before reaching into his pocket and answering. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, Dan, it’s Rachel.” Her voice sounded tinny, and he could hear the rushing sound of traffic. “I just got off work, is Emma still up?”

“Yeah, we just finished dinner,” Dan said, moving through to the living room, where Emma was playing with a mismatched dinner set, pretending to cook. “D’you want to talk to her?”

“Yeah, please,” she said. 

Dan lowered the phone, crouching down next to Emma. “Hey, sweetie, Mummy wants to talk to you,” he said, offering the phone to her. 

“Okay,” she said, taking it and holding it up to her ear, “Hi, Mummy, do you want some soup?”

Dan could just hear the faint, tinny sound of Rachel laughing. Smiling to himself, he went back through to the kitchen, returning to the sink. He finished washing the dishes, then went back into the living room. Emma was still on the phone, chatting away animatedly, so he sat on the sofa and watched her. Her side of the conversation was hard to follow, but she seemed to be telling her Mum about their visit to the library. He let his eyes drift shut, curling his legs up beside him and resting his head on his hand, his elbow on the armrest of the sofa. Emma’s high, sweet voice was a comfort to him, even without listening to her words. He started to drift off, coming back to reality when a small hand started to tug at his shirt. 

“What is it, sweetie?” he said, his eyes opening reluctantly. 

“Mummy wants to talk to you,” she said, holding out the phone, “I told her you were asleep but she said it’s not your bedtime yet.”

Dan chuckled, taking the phone off of her. “Hey, Rachel, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to talk about Emma’s birthday party.”

Dan glanced over at Emma, who had returned to her toys. She didn’t seem to be paying attention, but just in case, he started to walk casually out of the room, heading through to the kitchen. 

“Sure, what about it?” 

“Have you decided what day it is yet?” 

“No, not yet,” he said, leaning against the counter, “Why?”

“Can you make it the Sunday?”

“Yeah, probably. You get the day off, then?”

“Yeah, I think so,” she said. Dan heard the engine turn off, and then there was a series of bumping noises before she started talking again. “Sorry, just got home. I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to make the Sunday, but don’t tell her yet, okay? I don’t want to let her down.”

“Sure, it can be a surprise.” Dan fiddled with a peeling bit of the fake marble countertop. “It’ll just be a small thing, anyway.” 

“Yeah, absolutely,” she said. Dan could hear keys jingling in the background. “Let me know if you need any help with the party supplies, you know, food and stuff. I can transfer it over tonight.”

Dan could feel a lump in his throat. He accepted the child support without complaint, and spent all of it on Emma, but he still felt a strange sense of guilt accepting money from Rachel. “No, don’t worry, it’s fine,” he said. “Just try to make it, yeah? She’d love to see you there.”

“I know,” she said, with a soft sigh. “We’ll talk later, all right? Bye.”

“Bye,” Dan said. He swallowed the _I love you_ that still rose up automatically in his throat, hanging up and returning his phone to his pocket. He stood still for a moment, taking a few deep breaths, before returning to the living room.

“Hey, sweetie, are you ready for your bath?”

“Do I have to?” Emma pouted up at him. She was really good at the puppy-dog eyes, but Dan was wise to his own tricks. 

“Yes, baby, it’s late,” he said, kneeling down beside her. “I’ll help you tidy up, okay?”

She just kept pouting, but she helped him put her toys away in their basket and let him lead her upstairs to the bathroom. She sat on the floor, making puppets with her hands, while Dan ran the bath and checked the temperature. She let him wash her hair with minimal complaints, and stood still to be patted dry before running off, still nude, to grab a book for their bedtime story. Dan had to help her into her pyjamas, her damp hair sticking to the sides of her face. He sat on the edge of her bed to read to her. She tried valiantly to stay awake, but started drifting off halfway through, her eyelids fluttering. He finished the book, his voice softening, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before he got up. He lingered in the doorway for a moment, just watching her, before he flicked off the light and headed back downstairs. 

The rest of the evening passed quietly. As he went to bed - early, ready for his shift the next morning - his mind wandered back to the librarian. Dan wondered whether he’d see him again. That would be nice, right? After all, Emma had liked him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you chicken for looking over this and yelling w me! also shoutout to daye. sorry i didn't wait for you before posting this, i am impatient as always. 
> 
> come hit me up on tumblr or twitter (karcathy) if you want to yell or give me fic suggestions! i'm looking for more short prompts to do between chapters.


	3. Phil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil's work week is improved by the return of a certain single father. How he responds to that is his own problem.

Phil’s week was going by pretty slowly. The library was usually pretty empty once the schools had started, but this week seemed particularly dull. He spent too much time idly scrolling on his phone because there wasn’t anything left to do and there was no one else in the library. He usually didn’t mind this kind of downtime, but he was beginning to get restless - probably a sign he was overdue a holiday. The rest of the week had dragged, and he was glad Saturday was only a short shift. 

He'd not been in long when the mail came. Usually there was nothing exciting, but he still enjoyed checking. Today was much the same, but they'd also gotten a couple of new library cards sent through. Something about the name pinged a reminder in Phil's brain, but he couldn't place it. He pulled up the record, checking for a phone number, then it clicked. Daniel Howell - the cute guy with the little girl. Smiling to himself, he tapped out the number and waited. The line rang for a few minutes, then went through to voicemail. That usually wouldn't be a disappointment, but Phil had kind of wanted to talk to him. 

"Hi, this is a message for Daniel Howell. It's Phil from the library, just calling to let you know your new card has arrived. We're open until four today if you want to come in, or you can check our website for our hours during the week. Please call us back if there are any issues." He repeated the phone number twice, the sing-song rhythm of it deeply ingrained in his brain, then ended the call. 

He didn't really expect him to call back, but he still felt a pang of disappointment when the phone rang and it was someone else. He kept on working, managing to put him out of his mind, for the most part. There was plenty to distract him - there was a new storytime event going on, and it was proving more popular than anticipated. Phil was having to deal with wrangling the kids - and, worse, the parents - there wasn’t space for. It was half three - nearly closing time - before he got any peace. He sat down at the desk, taking a moment just to breathe, his eyes closed and his fingers massaging his temples. He could feel the throbbing sensation of a growing migraine behind his left eye, and he was feeling deeply thankful they closed early on Saturdays. The sound of someone politely clearing their throat prompted him to open his eyes, and his instinctive feeling of dismay was quickly pushed aside as he recognised the man in front of him. 

“Hi, uh,” he said, tapping the desk awkwardly. “I’m, uh, Dan. Howell. I got a message earlier, saying my card is ready?”

“Oh! Yes, of course,” Phil said, turning away to rummage through the in-tray. “One moment, I know it’s here somewhere.” 

“No worries,” Dan said, continuing to tap while Phil searched. “I was worried I wasn’t gonna make it in time. I’ve been running around all day, I’m trying to organise this birthday party, but, well- sorry, you don’t need me complaining at you.”

“It’s fine,” Phil said, looking up with a smile. He’d found their cards while Dan was talking. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s all just- okay, the main problem,” Dan said, taking a deep breath and leaning against the counter. “It’s a kids party, right? Emma’s birthday.” Phil thought he remembered Emma - she was Dan’s daughter, right? Maybe four or five? He nodded anyway. “So, obviously, there’s a whole bunch of kids coming. And their parents, ugh, but whatever, I’m trying to find like, entertainment or whatever, you know, for the kids, and it’s just like - everything is just _so_ expensive, and _so _ridiculous.” He sighed heavily, and Phil nodded some more. “I’m just, like, what do I even do? Hire a fucking clown? I don’t even think Emma likes clowns.”

“I used to do kids’ parties,” said Phil. It had been a long time since he’d done that, a part-time job he’d done while he was studying, and he wasn’t sure why he mentioned it. 

“What, you’re a clown?” Dan said, snorting. 

Phil laughed. “No, don’t be mean,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, not really. I didn’t wear the outfit, but I did tricks at parties. You know, balloon animals and nursery rhymes and stuff.”

“You know what, I can actually picture that,” said Dan, his eyes crinkling with suppressed laughter. 

“Shut up,” Phil said, lightly swatting his hand with the library cards. “When’s your party?”

“Next Sunday.” Dan was giving him a look. 

“I’m free, then,” he said. Why was he saying that? He should probably just stop talking. “Think I can still remember a few tricks.”

“What, really?” Dan’s expression was mostly confusion, mixed with something else. “What’s your rate?”

“Shut up, I’m not going to charge you,” Phil said, shaking his head. “It’s a favour. I think.”

“I can’t let you work for free,” Dan said. 

“I’ll do it for cake, then,” he said with a grin. “It’s nothing, really. I like hanging out with kids. Not in a creepy way,” he added, hurriedly. “Just, you know. I’ll shut up.”

“No, I mean, that would be amazing,” Dan said, his cheeks flushed. “I’m just, I can’t, you know, slave labour and all that.”

“Look,” Phil said, tapping the cards against the desk. “I’ll give you my number, okay? You can call or text or whatever, if you don’t find anyone else. I don’t have any other plans, and I’m always up for free food.”

“Wh- I- okay,” Dan said. He sighed. “Fine, okay.”

“Great!” Phil said, grabbing a Post-It note and scribbling down his mobile number. “Here you go!” He handed Dan the cards and the note, then glanced at the clock. “Oh, we’re closing now, sorry.”

“Right, yeah,” Dan said, shoving the cards into his pocket. “I’ll, uh, see you later?”

“See you later,” Phil said, with a wide smile. 

He watched Dan leave, still looking slightly dazed. 

Phil stopped at a local party shop on his way home to pick up some things. He wasn’t sure what he should get, or whether he should even bother, but he figured it was worth practising, at least. He hadn’t worked a kids’ party since he was at uni, and that was a good six years ago now, so he was probably a bit rusty at his balloon animals. He should have asked what Emma’s favourite was - could he text Dan and ask? No; he’d forgotten to note down his number, and that would have probably been a bit creepy anyway. He settled for practising the animals he could remember, and freaking out his cats, who really didn’t like the balloons. Lenny tried to swat at one of them, terrifying himself when it burst under his claws. The noise sent George into hiding for the rest of the evening. Phil only found him when he dropped the pump and it rolled under the sofa, where the cat was hiding. They spent the night sulking as well, staying downstairs instead of sleeping on Phil’s bed. That was probably better for his allergies, but he still missed their warmth. 

He didn’t exactly spend the next few days waiting for a text from Dan, but he didn’t _not_ do that, either. He kept checking his phone, totally _not_ looking for a text notification, and totally _not_ feeling deeply disappointed when he didn’t have one. He tried to distract himself, but he was beginning to realise he didn’t really have that much going on in his life at the moment. He’d basically settled into a routine of work at the library, spending the evenings with his cats, and avoiding socialising too much. Oh, God… was he a crazy cat lady? He might have accidentally become a crazy cat lady. 

His spiral was interrupted on Wednesday evening by a text from an unknown number. 

_hi r u still free sunday?_

_its dan btw_

Phil grinned at his phone, pushing himself into a sitting position and dislodging a disgruntled Lenny from his lap. 

_Yeah, I’m free!_

His reply was sent a little too quickly, the timestamp reading the same as Dan’s, and Phil wondered whether that came off as a little too eager. Fortunately, Dan’s next message came in quickly as well. 

_great tysm 4 this ur a lifesavre _

Phil grinned at his phone for a moment before sending off a quick ‘_No worries!’_ and getting the details about the time and address for the party in reply. He resisted the urge to keep texting beyond that, although he very much wanted to keep chatting with Dan. He tried to keep this vaguely professional, even though it was objectively ridiculous. Instead, he settled back onto the sofa and turned his attention back to the telly, which was playing old episodes of _Bake Off_. After a cautious sniff, Lenny hopped back into his lap, giving him a glare before settling down into a round, purring lump. 

Sunday came more quickly than Phil anticipated. He’d spent the intervening days keenly awaiting it, but when it came, he didn’t feel ready for it. He felt a little silly for doing this, and massively underprepared. The paltry supplies he’d gathered from the local party supply store seemed woefully unimpressive with the prospect of having to entertain a group of small children before him. He looked over them one last time before slamming shut the boot of his car and walking around to the door. He entered the address Dan had given him into the Sat Nav, checking the estimated arrival time. It was twenty minutes before the time Dan had told him, so he figured he probably wouldn’t be late. With a final nervous, longing glance back at his house, Phil pulled out of the driveway and set off. 

He was early, of course, but only by ten minutes, since his Sat Nav had a minor breakdown around the new one way system. He’d been expecting something like a village hall or sports centre, but he’d been directed to a small terraced house on a quiet street, tucked away in a housing estate he’d never visited before. His attempt at parallel parking was barely passable, but he’d managed to get a spot just across the street from the house. He attempted to calm his racing heartbeat with a few deep breaths, then gave in and rang the doorbell, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He waited a minute for a response, then frowned and pressed the bell again, listening carefully this time. Sure enough, the bell didn’t sound. Glancing sheepishly over his shoulder, he knocked instead. He heard a voice, low and indistinct, then quick tapping footsteps approaching the door. He hurriedly checked his clothes, smoothing down his hair with one hand, as the door swung open. 

“Oh.” Phil had to lower his gaze to see Emma, peering up at him through a crack in the door. “Hi. Is your dad there?”

“Yes,” she said, turning away from the door to yell up the stairs. “Daddy, the library man is here.” Dan’s reply was indistinct. “He’s on the toilet,” Emma said, matter-of-factly. “He said he won’t be long but sometimes he is. Sometimes he takes a really long time.”

“Right, yeah,” Phil said, quickly trying to recalibrate his brain into talking-to-children mode. “It’s fine, I’ll wait. How’s school?”

“I can write my whole name,” she said, beaming proudly. “It’s long, too. It’s Emma Margaret Clarke-Howell. That’s twenty-four letters, that’s the most in my class.” 

“Wow, that’s impressive,” Phil said, with a smile. 

“What’s yours?” she asked, looking up at him with her eyes wide. 

“I’m Phil,” he said. “From the library, remember?”

“I know _that_,” she said, shaking her head impatiently. “What’s your _whole_ name?”

“Oh, right,” he said, with a small, awkward laugh. “Philip Michael Lester.”

“How many letters is that?” she asked, crinkling her nose up. 

“Uh…” Phil tried to count on his fingers, but got lost in the middle of _Michael_ and had to start over. “It’s nineteen, I think.” 

“Mine is more,” she said, with a smug grin. “Mine’s the longest name in the whole world.”

As she was talking, Phil could hear footsteps on the stairs. Dan appeared behind her, looking apologetic. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, with an anxious smile. “Thanks for coming.” 

He held his left hand out for a handshake at the same time as Phil offered his right. They both laughed awkwardly, tapping their knuckles together lightly. 

“No problem,” Phil said, glancing back over his shoulder. “My stuff’s in my car, should I get it now or…?”

“Yeah, yeah, bring it through.” Dan gently moved Emma to one side and shuffled his feet into a pair of trainers sitting by the door. “You need a hand?”

“Oh, I- sure, yeah.” Phil dug through his pocket for his car key, giving the street a cursory glance before crossing. “It’s just here, I’ve got-” He paused to open the boot. “Uh, it’s the bag, and that- yeah, thanks.” He grabbed the heavier bag with one hand, letting Dan take the other. He could have managed both without much trouble, but he didn’t know how to refuse help politely. 

“We’re setting up in the garden,” Dan said, leading the way back across the street. “It’s just through here.” 

Phil let Dan lead him through the hallway, into the kitchen, and out of the back door, into the small garden. There was a paved walkway leading from the door to a gate in the far fence, with a few potted plants dotted along it, and the rest was slightly too long grass. There was a battered plastic slide and a small trampoline with rusted springs taking up most of the space there. 

“Is this all right?” Dan asked, giving him a nervous look. 

“Yeah, it’s great,” Phil said, with a smile. “Is there anything else I can help with?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks chicken for the vibe check!! even tho i don't understand some of your comments. 
> 
> sorry about the long gap between chapters but i am now ready to Have A Posting Schedule, i think, so! look out for updates on alternate sundays! and please please comment if you like it & want further updates!! nothing encourages me like validation :)


	4. Dan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan deals with the stress of throwing his daughter's fifth birthday party. Well, at least, he tries to.

Dan had been struggling to get ready on time when Phil arrived, and he had a brief moment of additional panic before realising he’d turned up early, worsened by the fact that Emma had ignored his instructions _not_ to open the door without him. He’d kept on panicking for a bit, but Phil had turned out to be helpful. He’d set down his things in the garden, then come through to the kitchen and started helping Dan with the snacks. 

“Oh, no, you don’t have to,” Dan said, taking a bowl of crisps out of Phil’s hands. 

“Are you sure?” Phil said, his hands flapping about aimlessly now they were empty. 

“You’re a guest- I mean, kind of.” He searched around for a clear space on the counter, shuffling things about to make room. “God, I’m sorry about all the chaos, I swear it’s not normally like this.”

“It’s fine, honestly,” Phil said, his voice kind and calm. “I’m here to help.” 

“Are you sure?” Dan asked, trying to disguise the panic he was sure was seeping into his tone. 

“Yeah, absolutely,” he said. “I don’t have anything better to do.”

Dan hesitated, wrestling with the internal demons who told him never to accept the help he desperately needed. 

“Besides,” Phil added, glancing around the kitchen. “It looks like you really need it.” 

“God, is it that obvious?” Dan asked, shooting him a panicked look. 

“No,” Phil said, an obvious lie, his eyes unable to meet Dan’s. “It’s fine, honestly, I’m sure-”

“No, you’re right, I’m a mess,” Dan interrupted, burying his face in his hands. 

“You’re doing fine,” Phil said, awkwardly patting Dan’s shoulder with one hand. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’m- this is absolutely- god, I’m so sorry.” Dan kept babbling as Phil pulled him into an awkward hug, his hand gently rubbing circles into his upper back until he quieted down. 

“Okay,” Dan said eventually, his emotions slightly more under control. “I’m okay.” 

“You sure?” Phil was still holding him, the embrace slightly awkward but comforting nonetheless. 

“Yeah.” Dan took a deep breath, then stepped back, Phil’s arms slipping easily from around him. He missed the comfort already. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” Phil said, his tone completely sincere. “What needs doing?”

“God, everything,” Dan said, with a humourless laugh. “No, okay, yeah, we need to do the snack table, and get the toys out, and-”

“Okay, what needs doing first?” Phil interrupted, one hand gripping Dan’s shoulder. 

“Uh, the toys, I guess,” he said. He glanced around the room, then felt panic bubble up in his stomach. “Wait, where’s Emma?”

“She’s playing in the garden,” said Phil, nodding at the window. Through it, Dan could see Emma, cross legged on the grass in her Disney princess dress (he always forgot which was which), playing with her Barbies. “Don’t worry, she’s fine.”

“Okay, okay, good, okay.” Dan could feel himself starting to babble again, and tried to stop. 

“Okay, so how about this,” Phil said. Dan was grateful he was taking the lead so easily. “Why don’t you go do the toys, and I’ll get these snacks sorted out.”

“Okay, sure,” Dan said.

Reluctantly, he left the snacks in Phil’s hopefully-capable hands, and headed upstairs to grab Emma’s toybox. It was a little awkward to manoeuvre down the narrow staircase, but he managed it without breaking anything. Out in the garden, he set the box down by the wall, and started looking through it. 

“No, you’re doing it _wrong_.” Emma had appeared behind him without him noticing. 

“Okay, sweetie,” he said, putting down the bear he was holding. “Tell you what, why don’t you sort these out for me?”

“Okay,” she said, agreeing far more easily than anticipated. 

She sank onto her knees next to the toybox - which was just a clear plastic storage box - and started sorting through the toys, a focused expression on her face. Dan watched her for a moment, then decided she was far more competent at this than he was. He got up, his knees clicking loudly, and crossed over to the gate. There wasn’t much beyond it - just an overgrown section of garden with a shed in it. He wasn’t sure why the landlord had decided to separate the garden like this, or why he hadn’t bothered with any kind of upkeep in this part, but as long as he could reach the shed, he didn’t mind too much. The door of the shed was stiff, but he’d gotten the knack of twisting his shoulder into it _just so_ to pop it open. There was an assortment of junk inside, including what he was looking for: a battered plastic table, folded against the wall. It was an awkward shape to get around the corners into the main part of the garden, but he made it without breaking anything. The table itself was covered in cobwebs, which he swatted ineffectually as he unfolded it. 

“Is that for the snacks?” Phil had appeared in the back door, holding a bowl of carrot and cucumber sticks. He had a careful expression on his face, like he was trying not to be judgemental. 

“Yeah,” Dan said, checking it was secure before crossing over to him. “I’ve got a cloth for it, hold on.” 

He disappeared into the kitchen, searching for the tacky plastic tablecloth they used exclusively for occasions like this. He could never remember where he’d put it, and always found it again purely through trial-and-error. Thankfully, it turned up pretty quickly this time. 

“Got it,” Dan said, shaking the tablecloth out and draping it over the table. “There.”

Phil looked at it, a slightly skeptical expression on his face, but seemed to decide it wasn’t wise to say anything. Instead, he set down the bowl on the table, and turned back to the kitchen. 

They’d nearly finished setting everything up when the first knock at the door came. Dan gave Phil a look, then nodded, leaving him to finish up while he went to answer the door. 

“Hi, Dan, how are you?” Dan was swept up in a hug before he could register who was hugging him. 

“I’m great,” he said, taking a step back and allowing his brain a moment to kick into gear. “Angela, it’s great to see you! How are the boys?”

He pasted a grin on as he looked down at her twins. It took him a moment to remember their names - Eric and James - but he had no hope of telling them apart, even though they’d been friends with Emma since they’d started nursery together three years ago. 

“Oh, they’re wonderful, aren’t you, boys?” Angela responded, beaming at him. “They’re just loving school, isn’t that right?”

The boys mumbled something, possibly in agreement, but Dan couldn’t be sure. 

“Well, come in, come in,” he said, stepping back and holding the door open. “We’re setting things up in the garden, just go straight through.” 

The boys sprinted straight through, leaving Dan to make small talk with their mother as they followed at a more sedate pace. 

The rest of the guests trickled in over the next half hour. In total, there were about a dozen children, each accompanied by a parent or guardian or two. It was far too many people for Dan’s house, even with most of the children corralled in the garden, with most people having to stand or perch on miscellaneous items of furniture. Other than the lack of space, however, it seemed to be going well. Out in the garden, Phil was keeping the children entertained with a mixture of party tricks and bad jokes, while inside Dan was successfully making small talk with the other parents, most of whom were at least a decade older than him. The only thing he really had in common with most of them was Emma. 

As the party continued, Dan kept checking his phone as stealthily as he could. Rachel had said she’d be arriving late, but hadn’t given him a time, and he was waiting for the inevitable last-minute _Sorry, I have to cancel_ text to arrive. He’d tried very hard not to get Emma’s hopes up, but she’d been asking if her mum was coming all morning, and there were only so many ways Dan could distract her. Finally, after nearly an hour, Dan received a text from Rachel. Steeling himself for disappointment, he opened it, only to be pleasantly surprised by a message that simply read _Outside_. Politely excusing himself from the conversation, he half-jogged to the door. He was almost surprised to see she was actually there. 

“Hi, Dan, I’m so sorry I’m so late,” she said. There was the awkward beat where Dan wasn’t sure how to greet her that never seemed to go away, then she leaned in for a quick hug, her arms mostly occupied by a large gift box. “It’s honestly been so hectic, I’m not even- well, never mind. Where’s Emma?”

“She’s in the garden,” Dan said, giving her shoulder an awkward squeeze and then releasing her. “There’s snacks on the table, we’re gonna do the cake in a bit.”

“Great,” she said, squeezing past him. “I’ll go say hi.”

“Great,” Dan echoed. He stood next to the open door for a moment, then pulled himself together, shutting the door and heading back into the kitchen. The snacks looked like they were running out, but he didn’t particularly want to interrupt Emma’s time with her mum. Through the window, he could see her talking a mile a minute, her arms waving animatedly. Beyond that, Phil was kneeling in front of a small audience, making balloon animals. Dan watched them for a moment, enjoying the peacefulness of the scene with a layer of glass between him and the sounds of the children. He couldn’t stay still for long, though. Gathering an armful of crisp bags, he headed outside, making a beeline for the snack table. 

“Need a hand?” Phil’s voice made Dan startle, almost spilling crisps everywhere. 

“Oh! I’m good, thanks,” he said, turning to smile at him. “How’s your thing going? Looks like the kids are enjoying it.”

“Yeah, I think so,” Phil said, glancing over at the mess of kids fighting each other with their newly acquired balloon animals. “My repertoire of tricks is starting to run dry, though.” 

“You’ve done an amazing job,” Dan said, keeping his gaze on Phil. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Emma and Rachel chatting. He made an effort not to watch them. “We’ll be doing the cake soon, so you’ll be getting your reward.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” said Phil, with a winning smile. Dan had to lean against the table for support for a moment. 

“I hope it’s worth it,” he said, giving him a smile. 

“I’m sure it will be.”

They looked at each other for a long moment, their eyes locked together. 

“Daddy! Daddy!” Emma interrupted the moment, tugging eagerly on Dan’s sleeve. 

“Yes, sweetie?” Dan blinked, mentally shaking his brain back into gear. “What is it?”

“Can I open my presents yet? Mummy said I had to ask you, but I want to open them _now_.”

“Not yet,” Dan said, with a shake of his head. “We’re going to do the cake first. Why don’t you get everyone into the living room?”

“Okay!” she said, immediately running over to a group of children and tugging them towards the door. 

Dan smiled fondly at her, then looked at Phil. “Guess it’s cake time.”

“Do you want any help?” Phil asked. 

“If you can check Emma isn’t causing too much grievous bodily harm I’d be grateful,” Dan said, glancing over at the commotion of children. 

“I’m on it,” Phil said, with a grin. He joined the children, expertly corralling them into the house. 

Dan gave them another glance, then crossed over to where Rachel was standing. “You ready?” he asked. 

“Sure,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

Rachel followed Dan through to the kitchen. The cake was still in the packaging, carefully out of the way on top of the fridge. 

“Careful,” Rachel said, as Dan lifted it down.

Dan bit back the snarky retort that rose up automatically. “Can you get the candles? They’re in the cutlery drawer.”

“Sure,” she said, turning away. “Matches?”

“Yeah, too,” he said, opening the package and carefully sliding the cake - a classic caterpillar cake from Asda - free. “Great, thanks.” He let Rachel stick the candles in, making a neat row along its back. 

“Ready?” she asked, holding up the box of matches. 

Dan glanced up. The house was startlingly quiet, so either everyone was ready for the cake, or they’d been abducted by aliens. “Yeah.”

Carefully, she lit the five candles while Dan watched, hovering nervously. “Okay, you take it,” she said. 

“Okay,” he said, sliding the cake board carefully off of the counter. “You do the doors?”

“Yep.” She lead the way, holding the door open for Dan. “Ready?” she said, pausing outside the living room door. 

“Yep.”

“Ready?” she called, cracking the door open. “Happy birthday…” 

Slowly, slightly out of time and mostly off key, the room burst into song, as Dan carried the cake through. In the middle of the room, Emma was sitting on the coffee table, her legs crossed. Everyone made room for Dan to shuffle through, kneeling carefully in front of Emma and holding the cake up for her to blow out the candles. She managed it on the second attempt, and the room burst into a round of applause. 

Minor chaos ensued while the lights were turned back on, and the cake was returned to the kitchen for cutting and serving. Dan was overrun by children, all of them eager for their share of cake. In between children, he managed - just about - to convey to Rachel that there was a second sheet cake on top of the fridge, and that she should start serving that to the adults and any children willing to eat a non-caterpillar cake. Eventually, everyone that wanted cake had some, and some semblance of order had been restored. Exhausted, both physically and mentally, Dan settled onto the grass, his back against the fence, with a slice of cake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, look at me, following my schedule! see you in two weeks!!  
and thank you jude for my life. daye & chicken have seen it; they're not impressed.


	5. Phil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil takes whatever opportunity he can get to spend time with Dan. He's pretty much lost all hope of playing it cool, anyway.

Amidst the chaos of the cake cutting, Phil had managed to lose track of Dan. He was left in a room full of people who seemed to be - ever so politely - trying to work out what he was doing there. He’d much preferred talking to the children; they hadn’t been asking borderline invasive questions about how he knew Dan. They just wanted to know what his favourite dinosaur was. Which, by the way, was brachiosaurus. Not that anyone else here cared. 

It wasn’t long before the forced socialisation began to wear heavily on his nerves. He managed to make his excuses and retreat to the garden, which was largely empty, with only a few parents hanging around the snack table and some children playing on the grass. He spotted Dan sitting against the fence, an empty plate beside him and his eyes glazed over. 

“Hey,” Phil said, sitting down next to him. He’d attempted to sink smoothly into a cross-legged position, but his gangly legs had betrayed him and he’d almost fallen into Dan, barely managing to support himself on the fence before sliding down onto the grass. 

“Hey,” Dan said, a warm smile brightening up his face as he looked up at Phil. “You hiding, too?”

“I’m not sure how well hidden we are,” Phil said, glancing up at the rest of the garden, “but yeah. How long do we have left?”

“Oh, some of the younger kids are gonna need a nap soon,” Dan said. “Guess I should make myself available for the goodbyes, but… Rachel always used to do that. She’s better at this than me.”

His gaze was distant, and Phil spent an awkward moment wondering whether it was appropriate to ask before deciding he’d rather not stick his foot in his mouth right now. He settled for making a sympathetic noise instead. 

“It’s just… this is her first birthday since we separated,” Dan continued, and Phil breathed a silent sigh of relief that he hadn’t accidentally given his condolences for a woman who wasn’t actually dead. “I don’t know, I’ll probably get used to it, but… I miss her, you know?” He sighed, looking at Phil. “That’s pretty pathetic, right?”

“I don’t think it’s pathetic,” Phil said, gently resting a hand on Dan’s thigh. “It’s natural to miss someone you were, you know, together with.” Phil wasn’t sure that was a grammatically correct sentence, but he hoped it was comforting. 

“Thanks,” Dan said, giving Phil a slightly sad smile. 

They sat together in comfortable silence for a few minutes, only interrupted when Emma came up to inform Dan that some of the guests were leaving. With some reluctance, Dan disappeared back inside, presumably to make his goodbyes. Phil rested his head against the fence, letting his eyes drift shut. Around him, the sound of children playing slowly lessened, until he opened his eyes onto an empty garden. It was peaceful, but he figured it probably also meant he was overstaying his welcome. With some reluctance - and complaints from his knees - he clambered to his feet. The back door was still open, so he headed inside. Emma was sitting on the kitchen floor, with a Barbie doll in one hand and a T-Rex in the other. 

“Hey, Emma,” he said, “have you seen your dad?”

She looked up at him, wide-eyed, and shook her head, then returned to her dolls. 

“Right,” Phil said, continuing on to the corridor. He paused in the doorway as he saw Dan, standing by the open front door and talking to someone. They were silhouetted against the daylight, their features indistinguishable and their voices soft. 

“... to see you,” Dan was saying. 

Phil heard the other person respond - a woman’s voice, he thought - but he couldn’t quite catch the words. 

“You will try, won’t you?” Dan said, his tone a little sharp. 

There was another indistinct reply. Phil was torn between trying to get closer and backing off, realising that this was probably a private conversation but also unable to quite suppress his nosiness. His mind was made up for him - their conversation had apparently finished, and Dan was closing the door. Taking a step forward, Phil tried to act like he hadn’t been eavesdropping. 

“Oh, hey,” he said, as Dan turned back towards him. “Looks like it’s time for me to head off.” 

“Oh, right, yeah,” Dan said, looking distracted. “Thank you so much for coming-”

“No, really, it was nothing,” Phil interrupted, a smiling curving his lips. “My pleasure.” 

“Did you want to take some cake?” Dan asked, a light flush colouring his cheeks. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” Phil said, shaking his head. 

“Are you sure?” Dan paused, his hand resting on the bannister. “I really ought to thank you-”

“It’s fine, really-”

“It doesn’t seem right-”

“Honestly, I’m-”

“Let me get you dinner, okay?”

“Oh, I mean, yes, absolutely,” Phil said, feeling himself blush as he stuttered. Was this a date? Was the cute single dad really asking him out, or was he dreaming? “I can’t say no to food, obviously.” 

Dan laughed, the sound more of a cackle, but Phil found it oddly charming. “When’s good for you?”

“Any day, really,” Phil admitted, with a self-deprecating laugh. “I don’t have anything else on at the moment, and we close at five most days.”

“I’ll text you, then,” Dan said, pulling the door open. Phil turned back as he passed him. 

“Right, yeah,” Phil said, his smile stretching far enough it almost hurt. “See you soon, then.” He paused, then called out, “Bye, Emma!” He waited a moment, but there was no response, and Dan gave him a rueful grin. 

“See you soon,” Dan said, letting the door swing shut, and Phil turned away, practically skipping across the street to his car. He was going to get dinner with Dan. 

Phil spent the drive home in a mild state of ecstasy. It might or might not be a date, but Dan wanted to see him again - wanted to take him out to dinner - and that was cause enough for celebration. That probably spoke volumes as to how long he’d been single. He hadn’t really intended to end up like this, but he’d fallen into an easy routine of work and Netflix and hanging out with his cats more than other human beings. It would have been hard enough to meet people if he was straight, and adding in the complete absence of a gay scene in a small town like this just made it easier to give up on dating. By now it had been… nearly a year, he thought, since his last relationship, and at least six months since the last time he’d been on a date. Maybe that wasn’t so long, but it felt like it to him. 

The afternoon was spent largely trying to distract himself from checking his phone every two minutes to see if Dan had texted him yet. Each time, there was no text from Dan, and Phil would have to come up with a series of justifications to explain why he hadn’t texted yet, when the real answer was probably far simpler than his anxiety would accept. He busied himself with menial tasks, tidying away the books he’d left out but not gotten around to starting and throwing out the receipts he’d been intending to use as bookmarks. 

He didn’t get a text that night, and there wasn’t one waiting for him on Monday morning, either. He tried to quash the disappointment, but it lingered through the rest of his day, colouring his mood. Work was boring and slow, with nothing much available to distract him. He kept checking his phone at every opportunity, but there was never anything new, just the occasional notification from a news app he wasn’t sure how to uninstall. Apparently, they’d revealed the best fish and chips in Britain, but he doubted they’d bothered to visit the chippy in his hometown, and everyone knew _that_ was the best in the Northwest. 

It wasn’t until Tuesday evening that he got a text from Dan. 

_You fee friday?_

_*free lmao_

Phil grinned at his phone, quickly tapping out a _yes_ then deleting all but one of the exclamation points following it. They arranged a time and a place, and Phil ended the exchange with a quick _It’s a date!_, his heart in his mouth as he sent it. He still had no reason to believe Dan was at all into him - or even any reason to believe he was into guys in general, with all available evidence suggesting the contrary. Still, he felt a sort of cautious optimism about the situation, and he wasted no time in regaling the cats about his upcoming date, asking them their opinion on what he should wear. They didn’t make any comment, staring disdainfully at him instead. 

Time seemed to move both more quickly and more slowly now that he had something to look forward to. It dragged by in every dead, boring moment, and then seemed to jump, leaving him with no time left to agonise over the details. He had an hour after work on Friday before he had to meet Dan, and he spent all of it in front of the mirror, trying on shirts and discarding the rejects on the bed, where George and Lenny were sitting, occasionally batting at the flying shirts. He ended up having to run to his car, the red shirt he’d settled on half-buttoned and his shoelaces untied, only to arrive before Dan did anyway. 

“I think your shirt is buttoned wrong,” Dan said, indicating it as he approached the spot Phil had chosen to loiter in while he waited. He was dressed simply - a dark t-shirt under a casual jacket, paired with black jeans - but it suited him. 

“Oh, shit,” Phil said, turning away and hurriedly switching the buttons to into the correct holes. “Sorry, I was running late.”

“Were you?” Dan said, with a small laugh. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

The restaurant wasn’t quite packed, but it was busy enough that Phil was grateful Dan had thought to book ahead. Their table was in a small alcove, with a potted plant trailing its leaves onto the table, where the noise of the restaurant was somewhat muffled. 

“So, how was your week?” Phil asked, once the waitress had left them alone with their menus. 

“Oh, it’s been fine,” Dan said, shooting him a small smile before returning to perusing the menu. “Emma is disappointed her birthday is over already, but she loved the party. She thought you were amazing.”

“Did she really?” Phil said, with a startled laugh. “Half my balloon animals turned into snakes, and I kept dropping my balls.” Dan snorted a little at his phrasing, but didn’t call him out on it. 

“She thought you were ever so funny,” he said instead. “She kept telling me this one joke, how did it go? Oh, yeah - what do you call a two robbers?”

“A pair of knickers,” they both said, almost simultaneously, and Phil collapsed into a fit of giggles. Dan watched him, a small smile tugging at his lips and bringing out his dimples. 

“That one’s my favourite,” Phil said, once he’d recovered. “I wasn’t sure if she was old enough to appreciate a good pun yet-”

“Good’s a strong word,” Dan interjected. “I don’t know, I think that kind of humour is exactly on her level-”

“Hey!” Phil tried to look upset, but he couldn’t quite hide his smile. “Okay, maybe. I don’t know about children.” 

“Honestly, me neither,” Dan said, with a sheepish laugh, one hand coming up to brush his curls out of his eyes. “I was nineteen when Emma was born, I didn’t know anything about childcare- hell, I didn’t even know how to look after myself.”

“That must have been hard,” Phil said, trying to be sympathetic without being too nosy, although there was so much he wanted to know about that situation. He didn’t want to pry, though: he wanted Dan to share that with him when he felt ready. 

“Yeah, it’s not what I expected to happen,” Dan said, his warm brown eyes meeting Phil’s for a moment, before dropping back down to his menu. “Anyway, what about you? How long have you been at the library?”

“Oh, I-” Phil stopped talking as the waitress approached their table, shifting his attention to her instead. 

“Hey there,” she said, sweeping her fringe out of her eyes and readying her pad. “Can I get you guys something to drink?”


	6. Dan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan buys Phil a meal to pay him back for his help. He even manages to have some fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is a week late, but I have had a hell of a time lately, so I'm switching my schedule - we're back on alternate Sundays, but the _other_ alternate Sunday. Next chapter in two weeks!

It had been a long time since Dan had last eaten out. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d been in a real restaurant, although this place was hardly anything fancy. It was just an Italian chain, cheap enough that he’d still be able to afford rent even if Phil ordered three courses and popular enough that he was reasonably sure they wouldn’t get food poisoning. He didn’t know what the salary of a librarian was like, but it probably managed to beat _single dad working at Asda_. He was starting to regret this: buying Phil a meal was a fine enough way to repay him, but buying his own meal was an unnecessary expense.

“Did you want some, uh, wine or anything?” Dan asked, flipping his menu over to glance at the drinks. 

“Oh, no, I’m driving,” Phil said, shaking his head. “I live out of town, you know.” He was rambling a little, looking almost embarrassed. 

“Right, yeah, of course,” Dan said, shooting him a reassuring smile. “Can we get some tap water?” he said, turning to address the waitress. 

“Could I get a lemonade?” Phil said, smiling warmly at her as she turned to him. Her cheeks seemed to colour a little at that, and Dan felt a twinge of discomfort shoot through his stomach. 

“Great, okay,” she said, finishing off her note. “Did you want any bread or olives while you’re choosing?”

“Oh, no thanks,” Dan said reflexively, before shooting a glance at Phil. Thankfully, he didn’t seem too keen on the idea either. 

“Right, I’ll be back with your drinks in a few minutes, then.” She disappeared back around the corner, tucking her notepad into her apron. 

“Any idea what you’re having?” Dan asked, casting his eye past the starters and lingering on the pasta dishes. 

“I usually have a pizza,” Phil said, and he leaned across to indicate one of the pizzas with an Italian name that Dan couldn’t begin trying to pronounce. “Maybe I should try something new, though.” 

“Is the pasta any good?” asked Dan, his gaze lingering for a moment on Phil’s long finger, still lightly resting on his menu. 

“Think it’s all right,” Phil said, with a shrug. “I usually go for pizza, though. Ew, there’s a goat cheese one.”

“You don’t like goat cheese?” Dan tried to suppress the amused smile that automatically leapt onto his face. 

“I don’t really like cheese,” he said, sounding almost apologetic about it. 

“But… pizza… that’s, like...” Dan’s brain fumbled with the concept. “Cheese is like, one of the main pizza things.”

“I mean, it’s _fine_,” Phil said, jabbing emphatically at his menu. “I don’t mind pizza cheese, it’s just… all the other cheese.”

“Right. Okay,” Dan said. He watched Phil for a moment, then shook his head, returning his gaze to the menu. His gaze tracked automatically to the prices on the right, only moving across to look at the description of each dish once he’d checked whether he could afford it. 

“I hope I haven’t offended you,” Phil said, his tone light but the look in his eyes slightly anxious as they met Dan’s. 

“No, well, I do come from a long line of cheesemakers,” Dan said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “So you have just seriously pissed off all of my ancestors, you know.” 

“Oh no,” Phil said, his tongue poking between his teeth as he tried not to laugh. “I’m sorry,” he added, directing his gaze at the ceiling. That made Dan giggle, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. “So, what do you want? Just a block of cheese, I guess?”

“Yeah, that’s absolutely it,” Dan said, rolling his eyes. He glanced back down at the menu, lingering on the cheaper end of the pasta dishes. “I’m feeling pasta, I think.”

“An affront to your ancestors,” Phil said, pressing his hand against his heart. His long fingers looked particularly pale against the dark red fabric.

Dan was formulating his response when the waitress reappeared, a small tray balanced on one hand. 

“Lemonade,” she said, setting it down in front of Phil, “and some water.” She set a jug on the table as well. “Have you decided what you’d like?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Dan said, exchanging glances with Phil, who nodded. “Can I have the, uh, that one.” 

He indicated the cheapest pasta dish on the menu, which was essentially just penne with tomato sauce. The waitress looked over at Phil, and Dan tried to telepathically suggest that he shouldn’t order a starter. It seemed to work, as he just went for the pizza he’d pointed out earlier. 

“So-” Dan said, at the same time as Phil started to speak. 

“Sorry, no, you-”

“No, what was it-”

“Nothing, really, you-” Their eyes met and they both started laughing. It was the kind of laughter that was difficult to stop once it started, and it took them a good few minutes to calm down enough to try talking again. It hadn’t even been particularly funny, but every time Dan’s eyes met Phil’s he couldn’t hold back his grin. 

“Sorry, I just- I was going to ask,” Phil said, his eyes twinkling. “What do you do?” He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and Dan tried to remember whether he’d seen him without them before. Without the glass between them, his eyes looked wider, a startling shade of blue. 

“Oh, right,” Dan said, tearing his gaze away. He looked down at his hands instead, fiddling with the napkin. “Uh, at the moment I’m working at Asda, but, uh, it’s complicated.” He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and he focused his attention on the napkin, folding it in half again and again until it was too thick to fold any more. “I mean, it’s not, it’s, uh-” He broke off, internally fighting between his desire to justify himself and the knowledge that Phil didn’t need to know his entire life story. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Phil said. He was leaning on his elbows, his expression open and interested. 

“I know,” Dan said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Sorry, it’s just- I know my life isn’t exactly, uh, standard?”

“I guess,” Phil said. He frowned a little. “Standard is boring, anyway.”

Dan barked a short laugh. “Well, at least I’m not boring,” he said. His cheeks felt warm as his gaze met Phil’s again. “It’s just- I mean, I guess I’m a little lost right now.”

“That’s okay. I have Google maps,” Phil said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he tried not to laugh at his own joke. 

Dan sighed, his eyes rolling even as he fought a smile. “I just- well, I don’t really know what I want to do, you know?” He ran a hand through his hair, then let it drop to the table. “I… I mean, obviously Emma is my top priority, but I don’t think she needs me working at Asda forever.”

“Well,” Phil said, a thoughtful glint in his eyes, “do you get a discount?”

“We _do_ get a discount,” Dan admitted, with a laugh. “Don’t think it’s worth sticking around forever, though.” 

“Maybe,” said Phil. “So, what was the plan pre-Emma?”

“Well, I was studying law when I met Rachel-”

“Wow, law? What a nerd.”

“Shut up,” Dan said, with a laugh. “Well, I only did one year of it, and that was enough for me, really. I don’t know what else I could do, though.”

Phil appeared to think about it for a moment. “Maybe you could be… a chef,” he said, sounding pleased with himself. 

Dan snorted. “I can barely cook pasta.”

“Okay, something else, then.”

“Well, what about you?” Dan asked, keen to change the subject away from his non-existent career goals. “How did you get into, uh, librarianing? Librarising?”

“Huh, I’m not sure what the verb is,” Phil said, with a frown. He looked like he was thinking about it for a moment, before shaking his head with a smile. “I studied English language for undergrad, then I did a masters in information management, and now I just work in the library, I guess.” 

“Was it always your plan?” Dan had started fiddling with his napkin again, needing something to do with his hands. 

“I mean, I don’t know that I really had a _plan_,” Phil said, crinkling his nose. “But I guess it was always something I was interested in, if that’s what you mean.”

The sort of life trajectory Phil was describing was something very, very alien to Dan. “Yeah, I guess,” he said. “So, what else are you into?”

Phil launched into a long tirade about _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ that Dan could only follow so far before becoming completely lost, just about managing to _hm_ and nod in the right places. He lost his thread when the waitress turned up with their food as he tried to help and somehow managed to make things more difficult for her. 

“Oh, that does look good,” Dan said, his eyes moving from his own slightly disappointing bowl of pasta to the pizza in front of Phil. 

“Mm, yeah,” Phil said. “You wanna try some?”

He lifted up a slice and held it out over the table. Dan hesitated, then leaned across, taking a delicate bite from the tip. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” he said, his eyes closing as he chewed, a small moan rising up involuntarily. “Shit, maybe I should have gone for pizza instead.” 

“Is the pasta good?” Phil asked. 

Dan could feel himself staring as Phil took a bite from the slice he’d just shared with him. It took him a moment to tear his gaze away long enough to try his own meal. “You know what, it’s not bad,” he said, looking up to give Phil a grin before focusing his attention back on the food. 

With the food there, their conversation fell into a bit of a lull, with both of them more focused on eating than talking. The pasta was good enough that Dan enjoyed it, but he still regretted not getting the pizza, and the two pounds he was saving by picking it weren’t as much of a comfort as he’d hoped. 

“Would you like to see the dessert menu?” The waitress had reappeared, and was in the process of removing their now-empty plates. 

“Sure,” Dan said, smiling at her. He’d budgeted for this. 

“Thank you,” Phil added, as she disappeared again. “The cheesecake here is really good.” 

“I thought you didn’t like cheese?” Dan said, quirking an eyebrow.

“Well, it’s not really cheese, is it?” Phil said, his tone matter-of-fact. “It’s cake.”

“It’s cake made of cheese,” Dan countered.

“It’s not _cheese_-cheese.”

“What the- it’s cream cheese,” Dan said, his face contorting in confusion. “That’s still cheese.”

“Is it?” Phil said, his expression looking genuinely surprised. “I thought it was just a name. Like mince pies.”

“No, it- you thought cheesecake wasn’t really made of cheese?”

“I don’t know,” Phil said, having the good grace to look a little sheepish. “I thought- well, never mind.”

“No, go on, tell me what you thought cheesecake was made of.” A wide grin was spreading across Dan’s face as he watched Phil’s cheeks flush pink. He was saved by the waitress returning with the dessert menus, which she placed in front of them before vanishing again. 

“D’you want the cheesecake, then?” Dan asked, quickly scanning the small piece of card. “Or has finding out it’s actually got cheese in put you off?”

“It’s still good,” Phil said defensively. “What about you?”

Dan looked down the list again, looking through the prices. “Might get some ice cream,” he said. As usual, that was half the price of anything else. 

“Right,” Phil said, nodding sagely. Dan couldn’t figure out why. 

“Do you want a, uh, coffee? Or tea?” Awkwardly changing the subject seemed like the best course of action. 

“No, I’d be up all night,” Phil said, shaking his head. “I had to learn the hard way not to drink coffee after five.” 

“I’m not sure there’s any other way to survive uni,” Dan said, although his experience wasn’t exactly definitive there. 

“Maybe not,” Phil said, with a laugh. “I’m too old for that, now, though.” 

“Are you?” Dan realised he hadn’t actually asked how old Phil was. He’d just assumed they were roughly the same age, and now he was desperately hoping he hadn’t invited some middle aged creep to his daughter’s birthday. 

“I’m twenty-eight.”

“Oh, that’s not _old_,” Dan said, with a dismissive grin. 

“Well, what are you? Twenty-three?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Practically an infant.” Phil was grinning too, in a way that made something warm flutter in Dan’s chest. 

The jokes continued through dessert, flowing easily in a way that made Dan feel a little lighter. The tension he’d been feeling - of spending time with someone whose life was so much more together than his own, or of worrying what Phil must think of him - was easing slightly, as it became obvious that, regardless of anything else, he was easy to talk to. 

The tension came back with the bill. 

“Oh, let me pay.” Phil’s hand was on the bill. 

“No, shut up, it’s my treat.” As he reached for it, Dan couldn’t help but notice Phil’s hand was almost weirdly soft. Maybe he just moisturised regularly. It wasn’t greasy, though - just kind of nice. 

“We can split it.” 

“I’m paying,” Dan said, shooting him a warning glare. 

With a sigh and a small smile, Phil withdrew his hand. He let Dan pay without further argument. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you chicken for the vibe check and i'm sincerely sorry i keep attacking you personally with this fic. and thank you daye for being there!!

**Author's Note:**

> not me posting a multichapter wip right after finishing the first chapter! please yell at me if you want to see this finished, i am the worst person ever about finishing. and THAT is what SHE said.   
rating subject to change because i really only have the vaguest idea of where this is going.   
hit me up on twitter (@karcathy) or tumblr (also karcathy) since i really do need more people to yell at about these nerds  
and thank you to daye for xer help, compliments and yelling! you're the best.


End file.
